


Undercurrent

by lodessa



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Character Study, Emotional boundaries, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Psychological insight, Trauma, compassion fatigue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-19 01:01:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15498801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lodessa/pseuds/lodessa
Summary: None of them will ever call her out on the hole in her heart, on the numbness behind her eyes.





	Undercurrent

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [SonriaCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonriaCat/pseuds/SonriaCat) in the [july2018](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/july2018) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
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> "Katrina and the Vulcans"  
> Admiral Cornwell seems to have a tendency toward strong working relationships with Vulcans: first Terral, and then Sarek. Why is that? Is there something she specifically likes about working with Vulcans? Is it only male Vulcans, or does it include female Vulcans? You can be silly, serious or anywhere in between with this one. Minor to no shipping, please.

“Is that really a wise idea, given the amount of trauma-”

At that last word a dozen pairs of eyes turn towards Katrina, though she is not the one who is speaking. This is her speciality they all seem to remember, so what does she think?

They have all undergone trauma, every last member of Starfleet, and to a lesser extent every single Federation citizen. War is traumatic, loss leaves scars. If they were to decommission every officer suffering the after effects of the last few years' horrors, none would remain.

They aren’t discussing every officer in the fleet though, only the crew of the Discovery. _If they deserve to be sidelined because of the way Gabriel’s mirror counterpart betrayed their trust then so do I_ , a part of her argues silently. There is more to it than that though, they all know it.

The Discovery nearly went into open rebellion. They are the heroes of the war, but they are each of them holding a little piece of the treason that Michael Burnham was alone in not so long ago, a potential avalanche of matches waiting to ignite any number of potential powder kegs. They were, of course, right, but that makes them more dangerous not less.

It would be easy to get caught up in the whys and hows, to consider how each one might best be brought back from the brink… but that isn’t why they are here. That isn’t her job anymore.

People ask her if she misses it: being a counselor, practicing the art she spent all those years mastering. If they are Starfleet usually they are command track, sometimes captains already (greedy for recognition yet terrified of being dragged from their ships), sometimes they are considering switching from some other branch. If they are not, they are nothing of the sort.

Either way: they misunderstand. Their questions presuppose that she’s not using any of that training and experience anymore, that she put it on a shelf and became someone new when she traded in silver for gold. That isn’t how it works. There’s a reason that there is more than one path to the admiralty, they all bring their unique strengths and expertises to the job just like any other, and that’s a good thing.

So the others look to her, to assess the emotional collateral and advise the best course of triage in situations like this. They look to her to see what others might not, to ask the right questions, to see under the surface with the clinician’s trained eye.

“Trauma is a given, but the real question we must ask is what is going to benefit Starfleet the most? Cutting our losses? Trying to find any silver lining we can scrape together? It is not our job to worry about what is best for individuals right now. We have to think of the Federation as a whole.”

What is the right course of action? For the Federation? For Starfleet? Every single person on board Discovery is an asset and a liability balanced on a knife’s edge. Do they sideline them, comfortable insubstantial jobs as a reward for a job well done? Do they diffuse the energy by scattering them across the fleet? What do they do about Burnham and her all too public role in both the start and end of this conflict?

She spares a glance in Ambassador Sarek’s direction, gauging his reaction to the latest points raised by the rest of their colleagues. She doesn’t always agree with Sarek, but she thinks she understands him, beyond anything else Sarek is a man who does not flinch. He is someone who gets the job done.

Katrina is still using her insight into human and alien psyches. It is what she uses to make tough calls. It is what she uses when diplomacy is needed and just as much when they have to resort to diversion or intimidation.

Perhaps, though, perhaps that is not really what they are asking at all. The way she uses her knowledge now, the focus of her work, is different. Does she miss treating patients? Developing those deep connections and trust? Being privy to people at their most private?

Not as much as being free of that burden is a relief, not as much as she relishes not having to take in all that anguish, not having to be responsible for the emotional well being of others in that intense micro sense.

Diplomacy and command are barriers, ones she doesn’t need to build and enforce to keep other people’s trauma’s from overtaking her. Yes the work she did was important and it could be fulfilling, but it was exhausting. As an admiral she works hard, but she is never as drained as she had become as a counselor, not even in the middle of a war they were losing.

That’s the secret, the one no one thinks to suspect, but Katrina lives with nonetheless, guarding her truth carefully.

No. She doesn’t miss the long term intimate work of treatment.

She does enjoy the insight it gives her, though, the work of assessment is far more rewarding than the grueling slog of what follows. So she’s happy to be the one to unlock living mysteries, to see the depth of the reactions running under the skin of a man that no one else seems to notice is responding at all.

Katrina is not like many of her peers. (Though who really is like anyone else in the end.) Other human admirals complain of having to deal with other races of the federation… okay they complain about the Vulcans, like long grown adults who still can’t let go of the complaints of childhood against those who helped them grow to that position.

It didn’t take her long to simply start volunteering: to partner with Terral, to travel to Vulcan, to become the liason for the Vulcan embassy. Some well meaning senior admiral was pointing out who she might consider as prospective mentors and his kind intentioned overbearing drove her in the opposite direction.

Maybe she was seeking calm, seeking silence, the peace and serenity that Vulcans revere. In middle age she was already finding that perhaps she had been through enough of others’ emotions to last three lifetimes.

Then again, sometimes it feels like everyone else is half deaf and blind, as they go on and on about how inscrutable and soulless they find Vulcans to be. For Katrina, it is not so hard to read the different cultural norms of expression and see that the robotic stereotype everyone has of an entire race cannot have been further from the truth.

They are each of them, just as “human” as the people of Earth. They are individuals and yes, there are judgemental and pretentious Vulcans just as there are humans cut from the same cloth. That isn’t all of them, though. Even the legendary T’Pol became something more than a myth to Katrina as she watched her over an intimate tea the aging hero insisted on during her time on Vulcan. Terral had a discerning sort of curiosity that made him an ally of progress in ways that others seemed to dismiss. She misses him and not for the first time wonders what he would have done if he’d been the one to survive that attack. Sarek is prone to bouts of sentimentality, with lasting consequences.

What they do share is discretion, the ability to convey something without creating a scene. Vulcans operate almost on a different frequency from her own species, communicating in between the lines that most humans would look for. It is refreshing, a solace and comfort in contrast.

It is not something she would say to them, not something that it would feel right to discuss. To discuss it would be to as taboo to them as a human might find broadcasting the kind of intimate truths shared across from her in therapy to the whole of their acquaintance.

Not everything seen needs to be said.

Sarek is not resigned to whatever fate the rest of them might imagine for this former ward. He might never say this, but she can anticipate that he will twist logic to the breaking point to get his way. He’s done it before.

It doesn’t bother her. She understands it, maybe even respects the simple elegance of it.

Katrina still deals a lot in uncovering truths, in applying the right kind of pressure to bring them bubbling to the surface. There are those she has to wrestle with psychologically, pinning them to the ground before any progress can be made. A lot of these aging cowboys find that the best part of the job.

When Katrina has to do it, though, it means to her that all superior methods have failed. It is a disappointment, a necessary evil.

The Vulcans she works with, are usually as eager to find an alternative as she is. It is rare for her to have to resort to emotional violence with them, to force rather than encourage and assist. Implication is generally more effective than exposure.

That is what she expects from them, from him.

Of course, it is only fitting that today Sarek proves to be the exception. He always has been, although each time the others are forced to notice it they act as if it is a complete surprise.

“I would ask that I be allowed to advocate on behalf of my daughter,” Sarek says, without restraint or allegory. The others seem surprised by what they see as a change of direction, but what strikes Katrina is his choice of words: the naked exposure of a bond that she’s always seen in evidence but never witnessed him own so directly.

“Why now?” she finds herself drawn in as she has not been in a great while, “When the whole world was set against her you remained silent, but now that Michael Burnham is poised to be named as a savior rather than traitor to the Federation you object?”

“Adversity she knows how to bear,” Sarek’s pride betrays him, though once again Katrina wonders if they rest of them see it, “But she’d be far better served by having her place in Starfleet restored, being kept busy with purpose, than by empty praise.”

“I thought,” the Andorian ambassador chimes in, “that this was supposed to be about what was good for the Federation, not people’s personal satisfaction.”

“It is,” Katrina intervenes, wondering how no one else seems to realize the dangerous ground they are walking on, “However, we must not discount the way the general population sees that ship. They are comforted by seeing them as heroes who saved them from the Klingons. They are a source of hope we must nurture. I agree with Ambassador Sarek’s assessment that routine and purpose are a much better balm to any post traumatic erraticies on the part of the Discovery’s crew than idleness. We must, of course, increase mental health personnel and assign a captain equipped to make nuanced ongoing decisions regarding these matters, but the Discovery’s crew trust each other and that’s something which benefits any team.

This is not the time to argue, to turn on one another. Katrina’s words seem to sway the mood of the room, after all she and Sarek were the ones who made it back from beyond enemy lines. So many of the faces at today’s meeting are new, taking up the mantles of the fallen. The war with the Klingons' struck deep into the heart of the Federation. Sarek meets hers eyes and she suspects that no one else sees the relief in them at being turned away from what he would have considered to be an emotional outburst.

Sarek hangs back with her at the meeting’s end. If he were human she would expect a volatile emotional stream about to be unleashed at her. She would understand it. She would accept the need. Sarek, though, he does not thank or question her intervention.

“If I might be allowed to present Michael with the restoration of her rank, Admiral Cornwell…” he says simply.

She nods. If she were still a counselor she might feel compelled to suggest he tell Michael he is proud of her, that he loves her as deeply as any blood parent might, to suggest that in cross-cultural adoption it is important to integrate the norms of the culture your child was born into. As an admiral, it is enough that she understands where he is coming from. That he doesn’t feel the need to talk about it further, is a blessing that she appreciates in no diminished capacity, no matter how much she continues to work with Vulcans.

None of them will ever call her out on the hole in her heart, on the numbness behind her eyes.


End file.
